Understandings
by Red Tigress
Summary: Movie-verse, one shot. Prompt fill for "Agent Coulson was perhaps the creepiest person he'd ever met. Years later, his first impression still held." Rating for a modicum of violence. Stark, Coulson and Barton.


_A/N: WOO! *calms down after red carpet premiere* That was…intense. For me anyway. I figured I'd post this, and I got one other ficlet that's done. I do have some longer, darker stuff in the works, if people were wondering, but I think I wrote a lot of fics before I knew how Clint was portrayed in the movie, so I'm trying to get them published now…I'm not gonna lie, a little nervous about that. Please don't hesitate to drop a review, I really likes them! Thanks for reading!_

Unfortunately, one of the problems with being _both_ one of the highest ranking CEOs in the world AND a superhero was that the target that was already painted on your head became a flashing, neon sign someone could see from space.

So Tony Stark wasn't really surprised when he woke up in the back of an armored truck, rumbling through the streets of Boston with two berrettas trained on him. The men holding the guns looked less than pleased he was awake.

"Now fellas," he said cautiously. The bumps in the road weren't doing anything to help his pounding headache. "Why don't you just tell me what you want, and we can be done in an instant." He gave a fake chuckle. "This isn't my first kidnapping. I know how it works." He held up his hands in front of him which were handcuffed, as he tilted his head and looked at them with one eyebrow raised. "You know, you're really supposed to handcuff my hands _behind_ me."

The thugs looked at each other as the driver snickered, before one of them got up and pistol whipped him across the face. Tony let out a pained "_Oof!_" as his cheek bone under his right eye throbbed and he could feel the warm sensation of blood begin to run down his face. He gave a low, pained chuckle. "Well, at least your driver thinks I'm funny. You know, I never thought I'd be at a place in my life where I had to give my kidnappers pointers. But yet, here we are. I blame Hollywood. There's too many movies about this sort of thing."

The thug slammed his head back against the doors behind him, adding to his headache and making his vision spin for a moment. He blinked and shook his head to clear it, grinning again. He couldn't help himself. It was far too fun to antagonize idiots, even when it got him physical pain as a reward. The truck was slowly rolling to a stop, so Tony was thankful for that at least. But as the driver got out and the other thug got up, looking more menacing, Tony couldn't help but inwardly laugh at the cliché scene.

"Oh my _god_! Did you guys learn your interrogation techniques from a Jean Claude Van Damme movie? Cause they're really, weak, I mean_, really_."

He shut one eye and cringed as he saw the thug bring his arm back and he prepared himself for another pistol whipping. But to his left there was a "_SHINKT!"_ noise, and Tony looked towards it, seeing a large arrow head there, which deployed four, heavy-duty grapples into the door.

Tony let out a "Whoops!" as the door he was leaning on was pulled off its hinges with him still resting against it. The thugs could only stare in surprise as their prisoner was now lying on his back on the door in the street, before a man in a cheap suit was on them like a whirlwind.

Agent Coulson was perhaps the creepiest person he'd ever met. Years later, his first impression still held.

With the most detached expression Tony had ever seen, Coulson grabbed the wrist of the first guy's wrist, turning the gun around and pointing it under the man's chin a split second before the man pulled his own trigger.

He dropped him, moving onto the second thug, the one who had pistol-whipped Tony. He ducked around behind him, and for a moment Tony thought that the sheer size difference would be enough for the thug to get the upper hand. But Coulson already had his arm around the other man's neck, and was fluidly guiding the gun into his side where it went off twice, before Coulson let go and the man was dropping to the floor of the truck.

The driver ran around the side of the truck, his own gun aimed at the agent, but an arrow in his spine dropped him before Coulson had even looked up from the dead man at his feet.

Tony had always known Coulson hid some sort of deadly, primal nature under his unflappable exterior, but knowing about it and seeing it were two totally different things. It was one thing to see that efficient killer thing from Clint or Natasha. They were field agents. It was quite another to see it from the smarmy pencil pusher.

It made Tony very glad and also very scared that SHIELD was on his side.

"Uh, thanks, for that," he said, getting to his feet. The whole thing had only taken seconds. Coulson lightly hopped out of the truck, walking over to him, taking in his injuries. "Are you okay?"

"I'm better than those guys, at least. Christ, Coulson, this just a normal Tuesday for you?"

"It's my job to protect the assets."

"So, yes," Clint interrupted, shouldering his bow as he jogged over to Tony with a lock pick. Tony obediently held out his hands while Clint got the cuffs off.

"Damn, Barton, he makes you look tame."

Clint looked at him with wide eyes as they moved towards the SUV that was still attached by a tethered arrow to the door from the other truck. "Don't even joke about that. That man could kill me in a heartbeat."

"Please don't talk about me like I'm not here," Coulson said pleasantly from behind them, making Clint gulp and Tony bite his lip in fear. "I don't really appreciate it. Now get in the car."

Both of them scrambled to do what he said.


End file.
